Quotes from Collected Poems — Enoch Powell
1912–1998 England
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5 quotes
Mother, with longing ever new
And joy too great for telling,
I turn again to rest in you
My earliest dwelling.
Collected Poems (1990)
Oh, sweet it is, where grass is deep
And swifts are overhead,
To lie and watch the clouds, and weep
For friends already dead.
Collected Poems (1990)
Now I alone sit by the fire,
And one remains of three;
For two have got their heart's desire
And left their grief to me.
Collected Poems (1990)
I hate the ugly, hate the old,
I hate the lame and weak,
But more than all I hate the dead
That lie so still in their earthen bed
And never dare to rise.
Collected Poems (1990)
In old age it is no longer possible to credit the sheer, almost physical agony which is caused in youth by the passage of time, when the turning of spring into summer arouses pain as lively as the pain of toothache. The succession of the seasons is like a recurrent inescapable catastrophe, which sweeps away what is young and beautiful, and what is beautiful because it is young.
Collected Poems (1990)